The Catholic church was still open and functioning. Its official name was St.

Mary Star of the Sea Catholic Church. It had a school, also named St. Mary Star

of the Sea, that catered to pre-K through eighth grade and was located across

the causeway from the fort on Willard Avenue.

 

Puller had attended Mass here every Sunday with his mother and brother, and his

father if he was in town. He had never gone back since she’d vanished. He had

never seen the point to it, since God had ignored his teary pleas and never

returned Puller’s mother to him.

 

He stood out in front of the church for a few minutes, trying not to be

overwhelmed by all the memories that had suddenly come charging headlong at him.

 

He walked up the steps and into the church. It was quiet and cool and a bit

musty inside. He surveyed the interior, the blue carpeting and the sign over a

shelf of written materials in the back that read Thou Shalt Not Steal.

 

He walked up the aisle and noted the stained glass windows on either wall.

 

One was a memorial to a soldier who had died in Korea. The words read, He died

so the kids next door may live.

 

That seemed to be the lot of many a soldier, thought Puller.

 

You die so others don’t.